Different Sides of the Line
by Allora Gale
Summary: Sequel to Darkest Hour of Night. Remus and Aislin run into each other years later. But can the damage of their breakup be undone? And can their love conquer their different ideologies?
1. Chapter 1

She'd never forgotten him. She'd never forgotten the way he smelled or the look in his eyes. She'd dream about him most nights. They'd be running together, the way she had always wanted to run with him. They'd fly through some forest, racing each other, shoulders brushing against each other. Sometimes they'd stop and he would nuzzle her or nip at her snout in affection.

She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. That would never happen. She needed to forget him, she told herself as she pulled on her clothes. She needed to forget about all of her feelings for him. She told herself this every time she dreamt about him over the last sixteen years. He'd probably forgotten her by now anyway. He'd probably moved on.

She looked down, (finally) the little Shi Tzu was sitting at her feet and staring at her, emitting a little whine every twenty seconds. It wagged it's tail and walked around in a circle. It needed to go out. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the leash, still thinking about him.

He'd be disgusted if he saw her now anyway. He'd been Dumbledore's since the beginning and she was currently in the employ of the Dark Lord. It wasn't that she necessarily agreed with his ideology, far from it, in fact, but they'd taken her in when she'd had nowhere else to go. They'd become her family, her friends, her life. To throw it all away now would not only mean misery, once again, but would probably also cost her her life.

She shook the thoughts away. She was what she was, and she would be until she died. And why was she even worrying about it? About him? She shook the thoughts out of her head, there was no use worrying about what he would think of her because she would never see him again. He was gone to her, she left him in the middle of the night sixteen years ago. She sighed as the Shi Tzu pulled her towards the dog run to do his business. Remus Lupin was dead to her, but she was still imagining his scent.


	2. Chapter 2

He rubbed his face to wake himself up. He needed his wits about himself; he was about to walk into the wolf's den, literally. Fenrir Greyback was a confirmed Death Eater and the most vicious werewolf to have ever lived. He steeled himself for the encounter, which was undoubtedly going to be uncomfortable, when someone else caught his eye.

He watched her leave the building being pulled by some small puppy, but she didn't seem to be paying attention. And she looked good he had to admit. He couldn't deny it and his eyes seemed to be glued to her, following her progress until she turned the corner. Her once long hair had been cut in sharp layers that fell around her face, but her face hadn't changed at all. No, he told himself, that was a lie. It had. She had worry lines and she looked tougher, as though she'd been through hell and back but was smiling because it hadn't taken her. It hadn't gotten her down. She was fit, her brown, down-filled vest hugging her curves over a thin, long-sleeved tee. Her jeans hugged her form perfectly. He felt the same stirring of lust and love he'd felt every time he'd seen her when they'd been at school.

He snapped out of it when she turned out of sight. What was she doing here? She wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be looking for Fenrir and he'd found her instead. The only girl he'd ever loved. He looked at the building again, it was an old, low-rise apartment complex, with a faded stucco exterior. At least she was doing well for herself, affording her own apartment. It was better than he could have afforded. He could smell her, his mind seemed to mist over for a moment. He pulled back behind the maintenance shed he was waiting next to; she was going back inside, the puppy decidedly calmer.

The door was halfway opened when she paused and looked around. He bowed his head, unwilling to let their eyes meet. She wouldn't recognize him now, he'd been through too much. His time in the Order had scarred him along with his years of adversity, barely able to scrape meals together and moving from place to place.

"You can come in, Remus." She said, her voice sounded tired, disappointed even.

He hesitated before stepping out from behind the maintenance shed. Their eyes connected as he came forward and she bit her lip. He focused on her lips, they were moist and pink and he wanted to kiss them. He wanted to kiss her senselessly. He wanted it to be like old times when she would sneak into his bed because she needed him, regardless of who else was in the dorm and whether they were asleep or not. He reached out his hand to caress her cheek, he almost kissed her, but she turned away. His hand fell uselessly at his side.

They walked in silence, rode the Muggle elevator up to the fourth floor and entered her suite. But he wasn't looking at his surroundings, he was looking at her. She hadn't looked at him since she'd let him in and the tension between them had escalated with every step.

He watched from the doorway as she let the puppy off it's leash and scooped some generic dog food into a bowl. He closed the door behind him as she busied herself with getting some water for the little dog.

"You know, I never figured you as the little dog type." He said. He'd had to say something. The silence was driving him crazy.

She laughed; it was musical. His heart seemed to constrict at the sound. He'd dreamed of her laugh so many nights when she'd been absent. He could make her laugh, he thought depressingly, but she still wouldn't look at him. "This thing? I wouldn't have chosen him if it had been up to me, but he's growing on me. . . somewhat." Then she glanced at him, for a second, as though just wanting to see what he'd become, before turning back to the kitchen. "Can I get you something, Remus? Tea? I think I remember that you liked tea."

He sighed. She remembered things about him at least; she hadn't tried to forget him as he had tried to forget her so many times. Or maybe she had and had failed miserably like he had. "Yeah, tea would be lovely, Aislin." He relished the sound of her name. He hadn't said it in years, he hadn't let it roll off his tongue for fear of the emotions that would surface.

"Yeah, alright, I already have a pot on, it was just steeping. Have a seat on the couch and make yourself comfortable, I'll be out in a minute." She called from the kitchen, a hand waving him forward.

He did as he was told, sitting on a plush white couch across from a coffee table and another, identical couch. The puppy jumped up beside him and put a paw tentatively on his lap before crawling on top of him and lying down. He laughed. This definitely wasn't what he'd have expected her to have as a pet. Maybe a German Shepherd or a Doberman. Even a Great Dane, but not a Shi Tzu.

She emerged a minute later with a tea tray and set it on the table before grabbing the puppy by it's scruff and setting it on the floor. Then she sat down on the opposite couch and began serving tea. They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping on their tea, glancing at each other and hoping the other wouldn't catch them.

"It's good to see you." He said, finally breaking the silence. She nodded, their eyes catching for a moment before quickly glancing away.

"It's good to see you too." She answered. He could tell she was nervous. Was it because she still loved him like her loved her, or was it just an awkward meeting of two old lovers? He forced himself not to be too optimistic. She had been the one who had left him, he reminded himself.

They talked for another couple minutes about generic, ambiguous subjects like the weather, the news and the Ministry's newest decrees until he saw a picture waving at him from the side table. He looked at it closer, she was beaming up at him out of the picture, one arm waving while the other was wrapped around an older man with wild grey hair and an unshaven face. He immediately knew who the man was; none other than Greyback, the man he was sent there to spy on.

She caught him looking at it and smiled, "That was taken a couple years ago now. Almost seems a lifetime ago." There was another awkward silence then she broke it again, "So, what about you? Still a Marauder?" He winced and she looked embarrassed, "I'm sorry, I heard about James and Lily, it's a real shame. They were good people." She said quietly, looking at him as though for approval. He nodded. "I know about Peter, of course, but what about in infamous Sirius Black." He cringed; it was still so soon. . . "Oh, wait, no I heard about that as well, Bellatrix, right?"

Remus cleared his throat, "Yeah, Lestrange." He answered gruffly, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. What disturbed him the most was the way she was discussing it; as though it were the weather, or a Quidditch game. Then he shook himself. Of course, she didn't care about Sirius. When they'd been at school, he'd used her and then tossed her aside as though she were something disposable. The same as he'd done with so many girls, but she'd never forgiven him for it.

"Don't worry, she joined him soon after." She assured him, a grim smile gracing her lips.

He looked at her in surprise, "You?"

"No one insults Fenrir in front of me." She said darkly.

"That's damned right." A coarse voice said loudly as the door opened.

Remus jumped and a few seconds later, the grizzled older man walked into the living room. Now that he was looking at the object of his mission, he began to feel his confidence waver. This man had bitten him. This man had given him this lycanthropic curse.

"I believe this one's here to see me, pup, not to catch up with you in a tangle of sheets." Fenrir said. Aislin blushed as she stood up, collecting the tea tray with shaking hands. Remus didn't get a chance to ask her what that meant as she disappeared around the corner and back into the kitchen. "So what can I do you for, son?" The grizzled old werewolf asked as he shook Remus' hand as soon as she was out of the room.

"Son?" Remus asked, suddenly on his toes.

"Sure. I remember all the kids I bite. It's always great to have a reunion." Fenrir replied, but Remus had the distinct feeling that the older werewolf was being sarcastic.

They sat back down, Fenrir taking over Aislin's newly vacated seat and they set to business. Dumbledore needed an informant close to Fenrir and he had been the logical choice. He needed to join the pack. He needed to get them to trust him. He needed to convince them that he hated wizards, that he wanted revenge.


	3. Chapter 3

Aislin waited in the kitchen nervously. Remus was talking with Fenrir. Remus, her poor, weak, kind, beautiful Remus and the most feared werewolf ever known. She hated fate; it was cruel. What kind Fate would send her the man she loved most only for him to be torn apart within hours by the man she respected the most?

She needed to do something. She needed to keep busy. She had to keep her mind off the men in the other room. She washed the dishes and made supper, a thick, meaty stew like Fenrir liked but that she often didn't have the effort to make. She made it Muggle-style and it was bubbling in the slow cooker. She did everything in the Muggle way now, having forsaken most magic when Fenrir had taken her in. She'd given him her wand as a sign of her disgust with the wizarding world that had dealt her such a bad hand at life. She sat on the floor against the kitchen wall, unwilling to interrupt them, with the stupid puppy in her arms. She looked down at it, it was looking up at her, it seemed to be smiling.

She focused on the dog. Fenrir had given it to her a couple weeks ago, after the last full moon. He'd said that she needed to have some company while she stayed home. He was really trying to soften her, to make her more feminine. So he'd bought her this stupid thing, with it's droopy ears and bright brown eyes. She'd named it Spike, hoping that a ferocious name might help it develop a ferocious attitude.

The attempt seemed to be failing as the puppy licked her hand. She sighed and flipped it over, rubbing it's belly as it panted in her lap. After a while, she realized she couldn't hear the conversation in the other room, either they had stopped or they were talking very quietly. Seconds later she heard the door close.

"Fenrir?" She called as she left the kitchen for the living room, Spike trailing behind her happily. "What was-"

She broke off, it wasn't Fenrir that was listening, it was Remus, standing next to the couch looking at her with an expression between anxiousness and lust. "Remus?"

"He left." He said quietly, his voice was calm, almost dead, but his eyes were alive. Those same eyes she had dreamt about a thousand times. The same eyes that had repeatedly drawn her away from her moral defense in school. The same eyes that had drawn her into his bed countless times during their 7th year at Hogwarts.

She growled, Fenrir didn't usually go anywhere during the day unless it was to make a kill and he'd only just gotten in. "You must have made him angry." She said quietly, but her mind was only halfway there. The rest of her was trapped in his gaze, lost in it as though it were some great labyrinth that she couldn't find her way out of.

He took two steps towards her, their eyes still connected and conveying the hunger they'd each suffered over the last sixteen years. She closed the gap between them, her lips falling roughly on his. She still needed him, she thought bitterly but she was beyond caring as his arms wrapped around her and crushed her against his body.

He would have slept on the couch that night if he hadn't kept looking at her like he was starving. She would have accepted the night's events as a one-night stand if he'd left the next morning. They would have gone their separate ways if Fenrir hadn't intervened, welcoming him to the pack.


	4. Chapter 4

He was pacing in their room, she was watching him from the bed. He knew she was naked beneath the thin sheet, waiting for him. They'd fallen back into almost the same old routine. The full moon would come in a couple days, he could already tell she'd be disgusted that he didn't lose control. They wouldn't fight, however. Fenrir had told them both that he wouldn't allow it. Then within a week she was in his bed waiting for him to join her so they could lose themselves in each other.

But not tonight. Tonight he was having moral qualms. Tomorrow was the first full moon Greyback's pack would run since he'd joined. "Do you kill, Aislin?" He demanded.

She shrugged, the sheet falling a bit lower as though to entice him away from this moral conflict. Just to ignore it and jump into bed with her, to lose himself in her body, in her heat. He couldn't. "To be honest, Remus, I don't know." She said casually, lying back on the pillow, eyes closed with a smile on her lips, "I just let it take me."

His argument faltered, she looked so peaceful, so beautiful. He wanted to crawl into bed with her. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her. Instead, he pressed on, "You don't know? What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Fine, I will admit that I've awakened with blood on my hands. I'll even go so far as to admit that I've awakened with bodies strewn about me. But whether I killed them or someone else, I cannot confirm." She said with an edge. She was about to lose her temper, he could tell by the formal tone her voice had taken. If she did, she might leave. He might not get to kiss her tonight. Nevertheless, he had to press on. This was more important.

"And it doesn't bother you to wake up with a body next to you?" He demanded. He remembered the horror he'd felt when he'd awakened to find her body strewn across the floor of the Shrieking Shack. He'd been terrified that she was dead and disgusted that he'd done that to her; that he'd been capable of such damage.

"Remus." She snapped, sitting up and looking at him. Her eyes were fiery. "We're werewolves. It's what we _do._ It's what we were made for." They stared at each other for a moment, then she patted the bed. "Remus John Lupin, I swear if you don't get into this bed right now, you will pay dearly."

He sighed and crawled into bed, she was on him in seconds, her lips traveling across his scarred chest. He smirked to think that probably half of those scars were from her. Then he was lost in her.

The next night was full moon and she seemed determined to corner him before darkness fell. He'd avoided her twice, slipping down a corridor or throwing himself into conversation with one of his pack mates at their "den", before she'd finally managed to catch him. She didn't say anything about his narrow escapes earlier.

"You will run with us tonight." She stated simply.

"You know I don't run on the full moon." He replied. She knew full well that he had control issues. She also knew that he was now taking the wolfsbane potion to keep himself sane during the transformations. But wolfsbane was a banned substance in the pack. Fenrir saw the potion as another means by which wizards tried to exert control over werewolves. He felt like the potion was offensive; it implied that they needed to be cured, which was something Fenrir heartily disagreed with. Aislin had emptied the four vials he'd had in his coat pocket when she'd found them. He'd be helpless for the full moon; a monster.

She glared at him. "You will, if you want to stay in the pack."

It had become apparent throughout the last week that Aislin has become the alpha female of the pack, just as Fenrir was the alpha male. In wild wolves this would have meant that they were mates, but she'd assured him numerous times that she only had one mate. Wolves mated for life. But regardless of whom she was sleeping with, she had the thing she'd always hungered for; power. And he had no doubt that she would, if she needed to, use it against him to get her way.

Nevertheless, he tempted her. "I thought this was Fenrir's pack, not yours." He said quietly, almost a whisper.

A growl escaped her perfect lips, a low, menacing growl that let him know clearly and in simple terms that she was in charge and that she was annoyed. "Watch yourself, Remus. Just because we share a bed doesn't mean that you have control over me. Keep in mind that if it weren't for me you would be dead already. You owe this to us, to him."

He knew what she was referring to; two days after his first fateful meeting with Fenrir, half of the pack had mutinied in response to his welcome. This had cut Fenrir's numbers dramatically, something that was not tolerated. Fenrir had been ready to kill him just to win back their support, but Aislin had intervened. She'd convinced him that they hadn't been truly loyal to him and that they would infect more people at the next full moon. The entire pack would hunt where there would be the most wizards available for infection; Diagon Alley.

Remus felt nauseous as he thought of it. He was expected to participate in the upcoming massacre. He was expected to infect as many people as he could. He'd felt horror as he'd realized the month; August. All of the students returning to Hogwarts would be shopping in Diagon Alley, he only prayed that in these dark times that they had enough sense to not be in the streets after dark.

They Apparated to the street, filled with wizard shops and stalls, in the mid-afternoon. It was busy, filled with the hustle and bustle of last minute school shoppers. He was thankful he'd been able to get an owl away to the Order, warning them not to shop tonight. At least Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys would be safe.

She drew him out of his thoughts; her arm was wrapped around his as she began leading him down the street towards Knockturn Alley. There was a pub just past Borgin & Burkes, called the Shrunken Head, which they would wait at until darkness fell; until the massacre began. The Shrunken Head was a seedy place, it was dark, most of the occupants had their faces shrouded, and certain stains and scorch marks left no doubt in Remus' mind that people had died there. The air tingled with Dark magic.

The proprietor, a witch with a long, sharp nose and straight black hair past her waist, looked up in surprise when the thirty of them strolled in, heads uncovered, looking confident as hell. Fenrir sat down, Aislin sat down at his side, he sat down on her other side, and they began ordering drinks.

Remus politely declined the drinks Fenrir kept putting on the table until Aislin elbowed him sharply in the rips and downed another shot. Remus didn't drink, it had to do with control. If he fought against his inner wolf for control every month he wasn't likely to voluntarily give it up for the pleasant buzz of liquor. Nevertheless, he downed the shot. It burned in his throat as he quickly swallowed the next one. Perhaps it would make the night easier. Perhaps he could drown his guilt for what he had to do before it even managed to surface. Maybe he could drink enough to pass out and it wouldn't even happen. But he knew they all had to make sacrifices if they wanted to win the war, this was one of his.


	5. Chapter 5

She was giddy, her whole body filling with the elation of losing control. It was the same feeling she got at every full moon but multiplied. She'd run with Remus tonight. It was what she'd dreamt about for the last sixteen years. She wanted to kiss him, to assure him that this was the way it was supposed to be. That they were _made_ to do this. She glanced over as he downed another shot of firewhiskey, his eyes were watering from the burning. She knew he was apprehensive about their mission tonight. She was probably the only one he'd ever infected before.

She glanced out the window; it was already getting dark. She looked over at Fenrir, he was slumped back in his chair looking at her with a small smile. "Are you ready, Fenrir?" She asked.

"Do you know, that I've always thought you were the prettiest little werewolf I've ever seen?" He said quietly. "If that one," He said as he pointed vaguely in Remus' direction, "Hadn't bitten you, I most certainly would have. I still remember the first time I saw you, you stole my heart away."

She laughed, "You've had to much to drink, my dear. Tell me, how are you going to run with us if you can't even think straight?" She said as she took the last remaining shot from the table in front of him and drank it before he could.

"You were lying there, surrounded by a dozen Muggles and a wizard. He must have hit you with a spell before he'd gone down. And you were beautiful, covered in the gore of your night. How was I supposed to leave you there, alone? And you were obviously alone, everything about you screamed that you were alone and lonely. If it weren't for him," He nodded his head at Remus, "you'd be mine. I'd take you right here and now with everyone to see."

She blushed, she had suspected his feelings for years but she forced her thoughts off it, the moon was rising and they hurried out of the pub. She was lost in the night, lost in the chaos and bliss of not being in control. For a moment or two, she had some clarity. She saw Remus beside her; they were running shoulder to shoulder like she'd always dreamed. His maw was dripping with blood and he had a crazed, uncontrolled look in his eyes. She'd nipped at him affectionately and he'd returned the gesture. This was how it should have been all along.

The next time she came to, she was lying on the pavement in some Muggle industrial part of the city, snuggled between Fenrir, behind her, and Remus in front. She lifted her head off the gritty ground a looked around. They were almost all there. She counted twenty-four; the others, she hoped, had gotten away. If they hadn't, their bodies were probably still in Diagon Alley.

Her head was splitting as she squinted in the early morning sunlight. She looked at Remus, he was covered in blood, but none of it was his own. That must have been a first for him. He'd never looked more endearing to her when he was covered in his gore, and she knew the thought was perverse, but she didn't care. She loved him. She kissed him and could taste the blood in his mouth.

Then she heard it, Muggles were coming in their cars. Police, she believed they were called. She shook Fenrir and Remus awake before getting up to shake the others. But they were too late to get away. By the time everyone was conscious again, the police had surrounded them. No doubt they were a sight to behold. Two dozen people covered in blood with their clothes shredded sleeping on the ground.

"Hands in the air!" One Muggle called as he pointed his weapon right at her.

"Let's go!" Fenrir bellowed.

"Go where? We can't Apparate in front of Muggles." Remus argued. "We'll be arrested."

"That's wizard's law." She hissed as she grabbed his hand. "We're werewolves." She Apparated, clutching Remus' hand tight. When she opened her eyes, again they were in her apartment. Spike shook his tail to greet them but she ignored him.

Remus still looked bewildered; upset; almost angry and absolutely sexy. She pushed him onto the bed. She'd never felt like she'd needed him more. Her aching dreams had finally been realized. They had run together and he had finally let himself just be taken by the wolf. She'd never been more attracted to him. She'd never been more in love with him. He'd given up his careful control, he'd been the beast he'd been made to be.

"What are you doing, Aislin?" He asked, watching her in shock as she ripped off the tattered remains of her clothes.

"I need you, Remus." She'd never said truer words in her life.

Hours later, they fell asleep, tangled in the sheets and each other, still covered in blood from the previous night. She'd just begun to dream when the door to her apartment was blasted open.

She rolled off the bed, dragging Remus with her. She could hear deep voices down the hall; men's voices. She dodged Remus' restraining grasp, leaving him behind the bed she pulled on her bathrobe and tip-toed around the corner. They were Death Eaters, two big men in black robes with masks covering their faces.

She ducked back behind the wall before they had a chance to see her. "Can I help you, gentlemen?" She called.

"Your beloved Alpha fucked up. The Dark Lord is not at all pleased about your recent mischief at Diagon Alley. Where's Fenrir?" One of them demanded clearly.

"What's going to happen to him?" She demanded. She hadn't even thought about clearing their run with the Dark Lord. They'd just done it. She'd suggested it and now Fenrir was in trouble. Fenrir, the man who had given her everything she had ever wanted; family, friends, a job, meaning and purpose; a place in the world. She leaned against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut, willing the Death Eaters to disappear.

"Only the Dark Lord knows, but I think it will be deliciously painful." The other man answered, his voice was deeper, more sinister.

"I planned that run. It was my fault. Fenrir didn't have anything to do with it." She confessed, she heard Remus groan in the bedroom.

"We'll take you then." The first voice said so close she jumped. He grabbed her arm before she was able to pull away. The other Death Eater grabbed her other arm and they Apparated. She just caught a glimpse of Fenrir running towards her down the hallway, she heard Remus calling her name. Then she felt the familiar sensation of Apparation.

She wondered if she'd be splinched, being side-along Apparated by two people at once, but in a moment her worries were over. Both of her feet landed on a creaky wooden floor to the foyer of a once beautiful house. She was intact, for the moment. The building reminded her, for a moment, of the Shrieking Shack but she pushed the thought from her head, she knew exactly where she was; Riddle House, headquarters of the Dark Lord.

She thought for a moment about fleeing, about turning and running, or Apparating away, but the Death Eaters were still holding her arms firmly. They began forward, dragging her for the first step before she began walking of her own accord. They walked up a creaky staircase, she wondered if she might fall through, if the house might just swallow her to save her from whatever was to come next. Then she forced herself to raise her head. There was a reason she'd been put in Gryffindor when she'd been at school.

The Death Eaters pushed open a door hardly hanging on it's hinges and she shuddered. Sitting in a comfortable armchair opposite from the door sat the Dark Lord. She'd seen him once since his return, from a distance. Fenrir had asked her to come with him once when he'd been called for a meeting. She'd spent the time alone behind the closed door, but when the meeting had finished and Fenrir had come for her she'd seen him, still sitting in his chair with a cruel grin on his pale lips.

She'd shivered then, but this was infinitely worse. His red eyes were focused solely on her as she was escorted into the room. He terrified her; made her knees weak. For a moment, when the Death Eaters released her, she almost collapsed. But she forced herself to stand, she forced herself not to react as he regarded her coldly. This was why she'd been a Gryffindor.

Then her mind was suddenly flooded with images; memories. She knew what he was doing, but she was helpless to stop it. She was filled with pain, he seemed to be squeezing her brain, as though it were held in a vice grip. She fell to the ground, sobbing violently, but the assault still didn't stop. She watched her parents die again. She watched the minotaur attack her. She watched Remus' first attempt at killing her, then the time when he'd actually bitten her. She watched those hopeless years she'd spent before Fenrir had found her. She was reliving her life's worst moments. She watched herself leave Remus, hexing him because he would let her go, and the days she'd spent after her first, wild transformation wallowing in the guilt of what she'd done. And a thousand other moments of despair flashed before her mind's eye.

Then she was reliving the run. Remus was beside her, his bloody mouth nipping at her affectionately before she pounced on some woman unlucky enough to come out of Madam Malkin's Robes for Every Occasion at precisely the wrong moment. She saw Fenrir, his huge slate-colored body chewing on her victim's husband that had come out of the store a moment later. Remus pounced on her son, a boy no older that thirteen.

It was over, it had stopped but she still couldn't move. She lay on the floor, staring at the dusty ceiling, tears flowing down her cheeks. Then she heard it, a quiet, evil voice that sounded altogether serpent like.

"You've come far within the pack, Missss McKay." He drawled. "But what a sad life you've led."

She forced herself to move, to stand, to do anything but take this all lying down. She fought her way to her knees, fighting dizziness and nausea. He laughed and she glared at him. She forced herself back onto her feet, swaying slightly.

"I don't tolerate plans that haven't been cleared with me first." He smirked coldly, his wand flicking casually in his hand, "_Crucio._"

She collapsed again. Her mind felt like it had been short-circuited. No pain she had ever experienced had even come close in comparison to what she was feeling now. She wanted to die just so it would end. She would give up everything, even the thought of never seeing Remus again if it would just stop, if she could just die. But the pain continued, far beyond the threshold of what she could endure. It just wouldn't stop. She realized she was screaming, her own voice piercing her ears, deafening her, but she couldn't stop. This was the hell so many people described, longing to die but being unable to. The pain wouldn't stop.

Then, after what seemed like eternity, it finally did. She was shaking and couldn't help herself from whimpering as she Death Eaters roughly pulled her to her feet.

"I like you, Miss McKay." The Dark Lord said quietly, "I can see why Fenrir keeps you around."

She didn't say anything, she doubted that she could. They watched each other in silence for a few minutes. She noticed Peter Pettigrew standing in the corner, looking excited at the prospect of his lord inflicting more pain.

"It's time for you to receive your mark." He said, finally.

"W-what?" She stuttered, tears flowing down her face, but the Death Eaters were dragging her towards him.

"You will obey me?" He asked, his voice deadly cold.

"I always have, my Lord." She said weakly, to say otherwise would have meant death and she still had the hope of seeing Remus again, of kissing him at least one more time.

"Good." He hissed, grabbing her arm and jabbing the tip of his want into it. She watched horror as the Dark Mark began to appear on her skin, faint at first, then darker. She screamed again, it burned her. Her very blood felt like it was set on fire in her veins, traveling throughout her entire body to cause as much pain as possible. She finally escaped into that dark part of her mind, the part she escaped to when the wolf took over. Darkness was bliss, darkness was where it didn't matter. It she couldn't feel, it wasn't happening. But deep down inside she was sick with herself. She was a Gryffindor, they were supposed to be brave and show courage in the face of adversity, to stand for justice and righteousness, but here she was, sporting the Dark Mark.


	6. Chapter 6

Fenrir and Remus had stared at each other wide-eyed the second she'd disappeared between them. Deep down they were each accusing the other of not saving her, but what could they have done? They waited what seemed like hours, sitting in seething silence on opposite couches. Eventually they heard a loud crack, both jumping to their feet.

The Death Eaters had returned. They dropped her body on the floor before laughing cruelly and Disapparating again. Remus' heart jumped into his throat. She was unconscious, lying at a strange angle in the hall and shaking all over. He rushed over to her, touching her face; she was clammy and cold. Her skin was an ashen grey, as though she were a corpse that had animated to torture him.

"Aislin." He murmured, scooping her limp frame into his arms. "We have to take her to St. Mungo's" He was ready to Apparate when Fenrir grabbed him.

"You can't. They'll kill her." He growled, holding up her arm so he could see the marring, black tattoo. It was still red around the edges with it's newness.

Remus closed his eyes against the sight. This couldn't be happening. The woman he loved could not be a Death Eater. She wouldn't have given herself over to _Him_ so easily. She just wouldn't have joined him.

He hardly noticed when Fenrir took her away from him, taking her to rest on her bed. Had it only been hours ago that she'd pounced on him, ridding his mind of the guilt he'd felt? They'd lost themselves in each other; it had been rapturous. Even the guilt of the run seemed more bearable now than the truth that she was now working, whole-heartedly, for the enemy.

"You wait here and watch over her." Fenrir ordered. "I need to get to the apothecary; we're going to need some potions if she's to get better.

"You can't go." Remus responded, the Alpha's words seeming to draw him back to reality. "If you go you'll be arrested. I'll go, they don't know me yet." As soon as the words were out of his mouth he realized what he'd said. It was his mission to get Fenrir Greyback thrown into Azkaban before he could cause any more damage or ruin any more lives.

He caught the strange look in the older werewolf's eyes, something unreadable, like surprise and the glimmer of trust. Fenrir nodded his head then and returned to the bedroom to watch over her. For a moment Remus wanted to change his mind, not to leave her alone in his presence, but he fought it. One of them needed to go get the necessary potions.

Remus felt the familiar squishing sensation as he Apparated to Diagon Alley. In the face of this new tragedy, he had almost forgotten about the massacre they had left in their wake the night before. But as he looked down the street it all came back to him. The street was almost empty, with a few shoppers quickly darting between stores and a group of Ministry officials doing their best to repair the damage and make the blood that had spilled onto the streets vanish.

He felt sick to his stomach as he forced himself to walk. He'd played a hand in this damage. He'd willingly participated in this misfortune. It was his fault, even. If it hadn't been for him it wouldn't have been necessary to run through Diagon Alley. He tried to force the thoughts away, for force the guilt away as he ducked into the Apothecary. He needed to focus on Aislin now; she needed him.

He talked to the shopkeeper, a short, swarthy-skinned man with a shiny, bald head and glasses. He explained the potions he needed and asked for some extras that might also be helpful. He also made sure he ordered a couple Draughts of Dreamless Sleep for himself.

He stumbled out of the shop with his purchases, almost in a daze. He was about to Apparate back to the apartment when someone called his name from behind him. He looked, a woman with short, pink hair and violet eyes was watching him in concern.

He glanced around nervously, if he was caught talking to her his cover would be blown, but no one seemed to be paying attention to them. "Tonks." He said, his voice strained as he took a step closer. She'd fallen in love with him years ago, despite his constant rejection with lame excuses. He just didn't love her. She absolutely paled in comparison with Aislin.

"Remus, what happened here?" She said quietly, her eyes seemed filled with despair. He knew she was examining him, trying to discover anything he might not tell her. "The Ministry is accusing Greyback of _this_." She said with a wave of her hand down the street. "I thought you were supposed to be stopping this kind of thing."

All of his guilt came crashing back down on him. Could she honestly think that he hadn't tried to discourage it? That he had just sat back and allowed it to happen? He'd pleaded with Aislin for days and even with Fenrir about the danger and irresponsibility of running down Diagon Alley on the full moon. He was suddenly angry with her. What was she doing that was so great? He was trying at least, wasn't he? Who was she to look at him as though he were some sort of monster?

"You weren't a part of this, were you, Lupin?" She asked with a tremble of fear in her voice.

"Just leave me alone, Tonks." He snapped harshly, turning his back on her. Who was she to judge him as if it would have been easy to refuse and to blow his cover?

"Remus!" She called behind him, but it was already too late, he was Apparating back to the apartment.


	7. Chapter 7

She recovered, slowly. It took weeks for what would have only taken a few days at St. Mungo's. She'd never thought that she'd be denied healthcare because of the Dark Mark, that just wasn't one of the many things that had gone through her mind while the abominable symbol was being burned into her skin.

Whenever she opened her eyes either Remus or Fenrir were sitting beside her, sometimes both. She felt good to have the two people she cared about most sitting with her. She was also thankful that Remus never mentioned the Dark Mark during their hushed conversations when she was conscious. In fact, he wouldn't even look at it. No doubt she would eventually have to jump that hurdle.

After she had recovered, she began to realize they spent less time in bed, but she wasn't worried about it because they spent more time talking together. They shared all the darkest moments of their lives, forging a connection so strong that sometimes they could just look at each other and know what they were saying. Sometimes the conversations felt like a slow, dragged out version of the torture the Dark Lord had put her through, but he went through just as much pain as he revealed to her his despair.

When Christmas came she was filled with loneliness. Remus had informed her that he would be leaving her for two weeks. It would have been the first Christmas they'd spent together since Hogwarts, since he'd bitten her, but he had to go. He explained that his mother was still alive but was in poor health and he wanted to spend what might have been her last Christmas with her. It was endearing.

So she endured it and spent Christmas with her pack; her family, ignoring the sensation that half of her soul was missing. He was her mate and no one would ever be able to replace him or to fill the hole he left in her when she was gone. She'd fallen in love with him all over again in the previous few months even though Fenrir's sometimes jealous stares weren't lost on her.


	8. Chapter 8

Remus stared into the fire at the Burrow. He'd felt horrible for lying to Aislin about where he was spending Christmas, but he couldn't rightly tell her without blowing his cover. Besides, she was in Fenrir's pocket, she might have turned on him and told Greyback. Then where would he be? At least the parts that would be left of him.

He tried to focus on something else, catching a snippet of a conversation between Harry and Arthur Weasley. Harry still didn't trust Severus after the years he'd repeatedly proven himself for the Order. Of course, Severus was no doubt just as much at fault, unable to let his hatred for James and Sirius die.

Arthur hastily excused himself as he attempted to keep his wife from turning on her son's fiancé, Fleur, leaving Remus and Harry alone for a few minutes. Remus glanced at him, the boy had grown a bit taller since he'd last seen him and was coming to look more and more like his father everyday.

"What have you been up to lately?" Harry asked him.

"Oh, I've been underground." He answered quietly, "Almost literally. That's why I haven't been able to write, Harry; sending you letters would have been a bit of a give away." He would have written the boy plenty if he hadn't been with the werewolves and wrapped in Aislin's warm embrace.

"What do you mean?" The boy asked, as precocious as ever. So he explained all about his task and werewolves stand in the war and about Greyback. He did,however, fail to mention anything about his canine lover. He didn't need the Chosen One looking at him as suspiciously as he was looking at Snape.

He crawled into his bed that night feeling hollow. He wouldn't admit to himself that he missed being with his pack, no, not his pack, it was Fenrir's pack and he was just an informant; a spy. He wasn't actually part of the group, they weren't his family. But he couldn't deny the feeling he had when he was there, it felt almost as home-like as Hogwarts had. He loved feeling like part of a family where he wasn't _different_. Everyone in the pack knew and experienced the same things he went through. A few of the omega's even shared his disgust at the loss of control that came with the full moon. For the first time in his life, he actually felt like he _belonged_ somewhere. He could even understand Fenrir's dislike of wizards. Hadn't they, after all, only a few years back attempted to brand werewolves like cattle. And Umbridge had passed some new laws quite recently that made if practically impossible for werewolves to get jobs.

_No_, he snapped at himself, _I am not agreeing with them! I was sent as an informant for __**Dumbledore**__not to join ranks with those foul beasts. I need to convince them that they're wrong, not secretly agree with them in my heart. They are working for __**Voldemort. **__Even Aislin has the Dark Mark. I need to save them from Voldemort. I need to save her…_

He fell into an uneasy sleep, dreaming of holding her in his arms but every time he went to kiss her she'd suddenly be wearing a Death Eater's mask and robes and would say something scathing about sleeping with the enemy.

The next two weeks seemed to go by in a haze, as he was lost in his thoughts of what he needed to do to save his mate. There were defining moments, however. On Christmas morning, he received a clock that pointed to each phase of the moon from Hermione and a few vials of extra strong wolfsbane potion from Kingsley, although he doubted he'd be able to use them until after he got away from the pack. Christmas day ended with a delicious feast served by Molly, there was no doubt that she was the best cook in the Wizarding world. Tonks had remained, thankfully, absent; he didn't want to put up with her accusing stares or her pining.

He left the Burrow early New Year's day, before everyone was awake, leaving a scrawled note on the kitchen table explaining his absence. The frigid morning air seemed to slap him awake. He walked out the door and Apparated to her apartment, appearing in front of her closed door.

His hand was in his pocket, about to pull out his wand when their neighbor's door opened and a sleepy looking Muggle in a business suit stepped out. Remus' hand bypassed the wand and fell on the Muggle key Aislin had given him for just such an event. It felt odd in his hand, a flimsy piece of metal as he slipped it into the keyhole. How did Muggles rely on such items for their security?

Then his heart jumped into his throat; the door wasn't locked. He pushed the door open slowly, drawing his wand; the Muggle was already around the corner waiting for the elevator. The door bumped against the wall with a soft _thump_ as he took a step across the threshold.

The first thing he saw was a prone body lying face down in the middle of the hall. He recognized the man; he was a pack mate. His name was Jason. Remus stepped over him, becoming more and more concerned by the second. He needed to find Aislin. He needed to make sure that she was okay. He passed another pack-mate, Michelle; she was slumped against the wall beside the kitchen.

Then he turned into living room and he almost cried out as relief flooded his system. The coffee table and floor was littered with empty firewhiskey bottles and two dozen or so more figures lay prone or propped up against furniture. Aislin lay sleeping on the couch, wrapped securely in Fenrir's heavy arms. New Years party.

He turned into the bedroom they shared, intent on going back to sleep, but the bed was occupied by a young couple he'd heard rumors about. He sighed, in that case, he'd need some coffee. He made his way into the kitchen, stepping over his passed out pack-mates, careful not to disturb them.

He began working the Muggle coffeemaker, cursing once or twice as he made a mistake. But within fifteen minutes the energetic aroma of coffee was floating through the apartment. He looked inside the fridge and grabbed an apple, biting a large chunk out of it as a pair of slender arms slipped around him from behind, hands splaying across his chest.

He knew it was her; he could smell her, despite the lingering alcohol and the pervasive coffee. He turned and slid his arms around her, tossing the half eaten apple onto the counter before kissing her. She pulled herself against him and he was reminded just how much he'd missed her and his motivation was renewed. He needed to save her, if only so that he could keep his sanity.


	9. Chapter 9

"Run away with me." Remus said suddenly.

She stared at him for a moment, trying to decide if this was a joke. They were in the middle of an argument, one of many that they'd had since Christmas. She'd known they'd have to address the Dark Mark at some point in time, but he'd started attacking the problem with new vigor. It was May now and he was still just as persistent.

"You're mad." She retorted. He'd been yelling at her a moment before about being weak and accepting the Dark Mark, like she had yelled at him when they'd been in school.

"No. Come away with me. We can get married and live in some deliciously tropical spot in happiness. The Dark Lord doesn't reach that far." He said quietly, as though worried he'd be overheard.

"It's not a matter of the Dark Lord." She responded.

"Don't you love me?" He demanded, he looked hurt.

"I do." She answered. It wasn't about loving him. She'd left him the first time he'd proposed because she knew he wasn't strong enough for her. This time she wouldn't do it. "But we're not kids anymore, we can't just run away from our problems. And there is no place in the world we'd be safe together if I abandon the Dark Lord." Karkaroff hadn't gotten away, there was no reason to think that she would.

"Marry me. I can protect you." He said softly, pressing his lips against hers. "Dumbledore can hide us."

Then the intensely romantic moment that she'd always wished for deep down came to a screeching halt. "Dumbledore?" She asked, her mind going into overdrive. "That's your magnificent solution? For Merlin's sake, Lupin!" And then it clicked and her entire world seemed to be falling down around her. Flashes of memories: Remus in a dark corner talking with some omegas, Remus avoiding her before the run, Remus sending owls in the middle of the night. "You're a spy?" She stammered, but he didn't need to answer, it was written all over his face. "You're a spy! You used me! Us! This!" She screamed; her hand waving wildly between them.

"No! Aislin!" He tried to interrupt but she was having none of it. She was hardly there anymore, and the part of her that was, was no longer in control. She was fury. She was rage. And she could feel the wolf rising in her to answer it. She needed blood.

"No, Remus! I'm not going to listen to your excuses. You violated a sacred trust between us. I can't believe I was just a means to an end for you." She hissed.

"You weren't, Aislin! I would _never_ do that. I love you." He barked vehemently.

"I'll kill you myself, you treacherous mutt!" She screamed as she dove at him. Her hands nearly managed to wrap around his throat when she saw his wand in his hand.

"_Incarcerous."_ He said roughly as though something were stuck in his throat. Thick ropes shot out of the end of his wand, wrapping themselves around her and squeezing. Her hands were stuck to her sides as she fell to the ground helpless. The bindings covered her from head to toe, squeezing her tight. She felt like she was trapped by a boa constrictor that was trying to crush her bones.

She heard him stumble away and the door close. He left her like this! She was shaking in fury. How dare he! She was going to kill him. Plain and simple. She was going to kill him. No one used her and got away with it.

A burning pain in her arm seemed to break through the blur of her rage. _He_ was calling her for the first time since she'd received her mark. She closed her eyes and focused on the pain, on her master. The bindings around her seemed to squeeze tighter around her before she was roughly dropped on the ground again. She wanted to scream, but the bindings were too tight.

She heard footfalls running towards her; she must have Apparated somewhere. She heard a muffled voice and the bindings suddenly became loose. She pulled them away, fighting to get free of the prison Remus had created for her. She was still shaking in her fury.

"I'm going to kill him!" She screamed. Someone offered a hand to help her up. She took it and realized it was Fenrir. "Remus!" She hissed. "I'm going to kill him." She didn't know how many times she said that phrase that night. It seemed to become a mantra for her. Fenrir looked about as furious as she was as he pulled her to his chest to embrace her.

Then she caught sight of the Dark Lord standing a few feet away a cruel smile gracing his lips. They were in the cemetery next to Riddle Manor and she was the only one in a circle of Death Eaters not in Death Eater attire. She was dragged back to reality although fury was still coursing through her. She released herself from Fenrir and stepped forward, kneeling before her Lord.

Her mind was suddenly filled with thoughts of Remus again. His betrayal made her blood boil. How could he have used her so callously? How dare he! How dare he walk away from her as though what they'd shared had been nothing! He was her mate and he'd betrayed her!

Lord Voldemort's icy laughter seemed to break through the haze. She glanced up, his red eyes were boring down into her and a smile spread across his lips. She felt the urge to stand, she felt like _he_ was urging her to stand; so she did. His hand reached out and her heart caught in her throat; he was going to kill her for being weak; for allowing that cretan to best her.

Instead, he caressed her cheek with hands colder than a corpse's and smiled. It was all she could do to keep herself from shuddering, the Dark Lord was touching her as though with affection. "You will have your vengeance, My Pretty Little Werewolf. You will have your retribution, tomorrow night, if I'm not mistaken." His voice seemed to slither off his tongue, like some dark serpent that was wrapping it's coils around her. He seemed to be the only person left in the world, the only thing that mattered. He released her and she fell out of the trance.

She stepped back, joining the circle of Death Eaters next to Fenrir. He surreptitiously slipped something into her hand. As her fingers closed about it she felt the power coursing through her. She wondered how she'd managed to give up this power. How had she managed to forsake her wand for the past thirteen years?

She turned her attention back to the Dark Lord, his eyes were on her and her heart felt like it might explode. She would have her revenge. He had promised her.

"The young Draco Malfoy has secured a way for us to breach Hogwarts. You will travel to Knockturn Alley where Borgin, the shopkeeper of Borgin and Burkes, will be waiting for you to let you in, if he values his life. From the shop, you will travel by way of a vanishing chest, which will spit you out inside the school. Now, no doubt, the school will be guarded, probably by Dumbledore's _Order of the Phoenix_. I believe, Fenrir, that your stray dog is part of this Order." He said with a sneer. "Kill them, or don't bother coming back.

"The destruction of Dumbledore himself, however, shall be left to the young Mr. Malfoy. That fool of a wizard always had a soft spot for children, he won't fight back." Voldemort said with a cynical smile.


	10. Chapter 10

He arrived back at Grimmauld Place just in time to run into Tonks (someone he most heartily didn't want to see) and Bill. They were leaving for Hogwarts to patrol.

"I'm coming with you." He said suddenly, stopping them before they Apparated.

"You can't. If something happens and Death Eaters do show up your cover will be blown." Tonks argued.

"My cover's already been blown. That's why I'm back here. I need to feel useful, like it was worth it. Just let me come." He retorted.

Bill nodded and they Apparated. He paced the old corridors, filled with memories of his times at Hogwarts. As he passed a darkened corridor off the side of the Great Hall he smiled sadly. He'd proposed to her there the first time, before she'd left him.

Then all Hell broke loose. They ended up outside the Astronomy Tower in a heated duel. Curses were flying in every direction. He ducked just in time to miss a well-aimed Avada Kedavra. It was chaos. Somehow a group of students had joined in the madness. He saw Neville get hit with something and fall to the ground. He hoped the curse wasn't lethal.

An undeterminable amount of time passed, as he threw curses at any Death Eaters he had a clear shot at, until he saw her. They each seemed to turn from their previous duel at the same moment to face each other. The world seemed to shrink. No, the world seemed to disappear. There was nothing in this universe except them.

Her eyes were maddened, burning with rage and he knew that with every curse she'd sent flying that night, she'd hoped that it would have hit him. But she didn't move, she didn't utter a spell or flick her wand. Instead, they stood there, facing each other with their wands raised, lost in their own universe. They still had a chance, he told himself. He could still fix this.

Then the world reappeared. It came crashing back into existence as a flash of green light caught her unawares from the side. She still had a surprised expression on her face as she collapsed onto the ground. Her eyes were still looking at him; but they were blank now; soulless. He looked away, Tonks still had her wand raised. Tonks! No! How could she have done this? She was a bumbling idiot that could scarcely manage to string a spell together, but _she_ had managed, somehow, to destroy everything he had. She'd just destroyed the only thing that had kept him going through all the dark moments in his life. The only thing that had kept him sane. And now she was gone.

He felt himself collapsing, his knees were on the ground before he realized what he was doing. "No!" He yelled, gathering her limp body in his arms. This couldn't be happening. Tonks could not have just murdered his Aislin.

Someone ran past him, he realized it was Harry, followed by a couple more Death Eaters. He didn't care. None of that mattered. _His_ Aislin was _dead_. She'd been murdered by an Unforgivable from the wand of a clumsy, incompetent witch.

"Remus."

She was still there. She was watching him as though he'd gone mad or turned, which was even worse. This was his fault. If he hadn't blown his cover he could be snuggled in bed with her, losing himself in her. If he had turned she would still love him and she'd greet him with that mischievous smile as she beckoned him into bed. The werewolves did have a point, they were treated like some kind of dog with rabies. Why hadn't he seen? Why had this happened?

"Get away from me, Tonks!" He yelled, lashing out at her madly.

She stumbled away, he heard her footsteps echoing through the now silent corridor. He ran his fingers through her hair; it was still so soft. Nothing dead had this soft of hair, he told himself. She was just hurt; in a coma. She'd be fine. She'd wake up and she'd love him again. He picked up her hand and held it against his cheek, his tears running down her quickly cooling fingers. She'd wake up. She had to. Tonks just could not have managed to come up with the Killing Curse.

He'd marry her as soon as she woke up and they'd run away together. Dumbledore would hide them from Voldemort and they'd be happy and make little Remuses and little Aislins. They would. They could be happy. _They could be happy!_ He was rocking her in his lap. He realized he was whispering all his plans to her. She'd know when she woke up. She'd know everything. He loved her too much for her to be dead. Love conquered everything, didn't it? Isn't that the lesson Dumbledore had tried to impress upon everyone he met. Love was what saved Harry from the Killing Curse. Couldn't his love for Aislin save her from what Tonks had done? Of course it could.

He heard a moan behind him. Someone was hurt. He should go to them, take them to the infirmary. But what if she woke up and he wasn't there? He couldn't leave her. What if she was scared when she woke up? She needed him. The person moaned again. He was torn.

Then logical, rational, sensible Remus returned. She was dead. Dead, he told himself. She wasn't coming back. But he could save someone. They were waiting for him to save them. He could redeem himself for betraying her, for driving her to fury by saving this person's life, couldn't he? Would she be proud of him for it, or scorn him? It doesn't matter. She was dead and he couldn't do anything more for her.

He could be a hero for saving this injured person. He pressed his lips to hers one last time, tears still streaming down his face. But he needed her! No, she was gone. She'd never save him from his agony again. He needed to help that person behind him. He laid her back down on the ground gently, closing her glassy, blue eyes. She deserved rest. She deserved peace. He could still save someone. He could still be useful.

He turned away from her, dragged himself away from her. There was blood, too much blood for the use of spells. He rolled the body over; it was Bill. His face was slashed open, scarcely recognizable. This wasn't the work of a spell, he knew. This was Fenrir's work. He'd seen it countless times during his stay in the pack. Fenrir would attack even when it wasn't the full moon.

But Bill could be saved. He could save Bill. He heaved the young man into his arms and stumbled down the corridor, careful to give Aislin's body wide berth. To step over her would be sacrilege. But he needed to save Bill, he could still save Bill. And he did. But he would never be happy again.


End file.
